


i'm game

by deakysfordays (renaissanceee)



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Anyways, F/M, Fake Dating for PR Reasons, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Miscommunication, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, and I miss it, but oh well lmao i make mistakes sometimes, but that tumblr is long gone, idk anymore it's been a while since i wrote it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:26:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissanceee/pseuds/deakysfordays
Summary: i orginally posted this on tumblr. then i deleted that tumblr. then i felt bad and missed it. now i'm posting this here in the hopes that my footstamp from the queen fandom won't entirely be erased. here's to deaky, forever my baby boy, and the queen fandom, i miss you guys <3
Relationships: John Deacon/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i orginally posted this on tumblr. then i deleted that tumblr. then i felt bad and missed it. now i'm posting this here in the hopes that my footstamp from the queen fandom won't entirely be erased. here's to deaky, forever my baby boy, and the queen fandom, i miss you guys <3

You sat with the boys in the recording studio, after they’d just had a meeting with an executive at the label. They liked to joke that you were their secret fifth member, but in all actuality, you were more what you’d describe as their on-call babysitter. You weren’t their manager, but you took care of the day to day, getting them from one place to the next as sober and ready to play as you could. You’d gotten the position due to your long-standing friendship with John Deacon, your best friend since university.

Now, you all sat around talking about the most ridiculous idea you’d ever heard, “And why exactly do you need a fake girlfriend, Deaky?”

Deaky sighed, running his hands through his hair, “Well, according to the label, I’d look more desirable if I had a girlfriend. I’m known as the shy one and not many girls are going for that, apparently.”

“Yes, I understand that, but why do you need to look desirable, isn’t that what we have Rog and Fred for?”

Deaky looked at you indignantly, but Rog smirked, “Hear that? She thinks I’m desirable.”

He leaned over to you, pulling on a strand of your hair. “Thanks, love, you’re not so bad yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at Rog’s incessant flirting with you, “Shut it, Taylor. What I meant was, why can’t they play up the mysterious aspect of you, Deaky? Why turn you into a ladies’ man, when Rog so willingly fills that role for us?”

Roger still had a smirk on his face but replied earnestly, “They’re trying to sell more targeted merchandise, you know, like are you a Freddie girl or a Brian girl? Buy this shirt to advertise it.” He made a flippant gesture with his hand, “Poor John’s merch isn’t selling quite as much as ours.”

You patted Deaky’s knee, “Poor baby.”

He rolled his eyes, but blushed, “Whatever, I just want this whole mess done with.”

“How long do you have to be with this girl?”

“I’m not going to be with this girl, y/n.” John said, “I’m just pretending to be with this girl.”

“Okay, so how long do you have to pretend to be with this girl?”

“As long as it takes to make him look like a sex demon.” Freddie piped up, “Or whatever the John Deacon equivalent to that is.”

The group laughed. Brian shook his head, “Just for a few months, maybe closer to a year, depending on if sales pick up.” He answered you. “Interviews start today at three.”

You checked your watch, “Is this something we all have to be there for?”

“Just you, y/n. They don’t want the girls knowing what they’re interviewing for until they pick one. Don’t want ‘em blabbing to the press and all. You’re going to vet the girls and present Deaks with the most suitable ones.”

You nodded, internally cringing at the thought of having to set your best friend (and possible love of your life) up with a girlfriend, no matter how fake it might be. “Got it.” You stood from your position next to John, “Well, I’d best get going, then, if I’m to pick out your soulmate properly, Johnny boy.” You ruffled his hair, and he reached up immediately to settle it back into the proper style.

You walked towards the door and turned to kiss Freddie on the cheek. “See you later, darling!” Freddie exclaimed, and then turned to the boys, “Okay, Rog, I want you to show them that drum solo you’ve been working on…” You heard Freddie delegating as the door swung shut behind you.

»»————-¤————-««

All of these girls were horrible fits for John. You weren’t sure what you’d expected from a record executive’s view of your best friend’s romantic interests, but you’d figured he’d at least get girls who could hold a damn conversation. Considering Deaky was one of the smartest guys you knew, you’d figured everybody else would see that too, and choose girls who would be able to hold an engaging conversation. It seemed instead, however, that the executives choose the prettiest girls off the street and hoped they’d have a personality. These girls did not.

You’d narrowed it down to the four best-suited girls, which wasn’t really saying much. It wasn’t that the girls were daft or had conflicting interests from John, that, at least, you could work with. It was just that these girls had… nothing. One word answers to open-ended questions. They were just… boring. But this was your job, and you were going to help John.

You arrived back at the studio the next day with four files on the girls you’d picked in hand. Freddie was late to rehearsal, as usual, but you’d called him and he’d said he was right down the block. Plus, his absence gave you time to present the girls to John.

“Deaky, my love, I’ve got some presents for you!” You sing-songed as you sat next to him on the loveseat. You dropped the files into his lap. “Four beautiful women for your choosing. Peruse as you’d like, and I can answer questions if you need.”

He didn’t bother looking at the files, “Which one’s your favorite?”

You sighed, “Well, they’re all rather boring, but I think Amber’s the least boring. She spent some time in America for university, and she talks about that quite a bit.”

Your eyes flickered to the door as Freddie strode through it, tossing his leather jacket on the floor, “I’m here, the party may start.”

“So nice of you to join us, mate,” Brian said from the booth.

John was flipping through Amber’s folder and nodding, “An interior designer, that’s got to be interesting.”

“You would think,” you sighed, “but no, all she talks about is whether toupe or plain tan is a good neutral for curtains.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?” Deaky reached for a cup of tea on the floor, taking a sip.

“I thought so.” You shrugged.

“Honestly, why are we still debating this?” Freddie stood in front of you, hands on hips, “There’s clearly only one good option.”

“And that is?” John raised his eyebrows as he took a sip.

“Y/n.” Freddie said matter of factly.

Deaky choked on his tea and your jaw dropped. You could hear Roger and Brian laughing from the booth. “Oh shit, that’s good.” Rog murmured.

“Excuse me?”

“What the hell, Fred?”

You and John spluttered at the same time.

Freddie held his hands up in defense, “Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Who knows more about John than you, y/n? These girls would have to learn about him. They’d have to sign an NDA, and even then they might sell to the highest bidder. They don’t know us, and honestly dear, I’d much rather spend time around you than those girls.”

Brian piped up from the booth, “It also makes sense from an outsider’s perspective, they’ve seen you and y/n around, Deaks, they know you’re friends. Best friends pining after one another for years? Finally getting together? Seeing you two together would be a love story for the ages.”

“Why are you supporting this, Bri?” John asked loudly.

“Just makes sense, is all I’m saying.” He muttered, going back to tuning his guitar.

“So it’s settled, then? Y/n and Deaky are dating now?” Fred looked around the room.

“Don’t we get a say in this?” I asked quietly.

“No,” Freddie and Roger said at the same time Brian said, “Of course.”

Paul spoke up from the corner of the room. Honestly, you hadn’t even noticed he’d come in with Freddie, “I agree with Freddie.”

“Of course you would.” Everyone but Freddie muttered under their breath.

Freddie sighed, “It wouldn’t be much different from the way things are now y/n. Sit in his lap, hold his hand, a few kisses. That’s all.”

“I don’t like this,” Deaky said with emotion. You looked at him. His face was flushed and you could see his hands tightly clutching his teacup. “Not one bit.”

Your heart stung at his words. Was the idea of dating you, even fictitiously, so repulsive? He met your eyes, which were starting to show your brimming emotions. You wanted to get back at him for hurting your feelings, for finding you so abhorrent. You looked at Freddie, “I’m game.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous!” You shouted.

“And he’s being a baby!”

You rubbed the skin between your eyes, “Freddie, just give him the toy!”

“Not unless he apologizes!”

“He’s a cat, Fred. He can’t apologize.” You said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler.

He huffed, “That’s what you think, y/n. But you don’t know him like I do.”

“Whatever.” You rolled onto your back, trying to get more comfortable on Freddie’s couch, you laid an arm over your eyes.

“How are you, darling?” Freddie said gently, tossing the toy to Oscar.

You grunted.

Freddie picked up your arm from your eyes, “Talk to me, love, what’s going on? It’s not like you to be at my place. Usually, you’re at-”

“Deaky’s, yeah I know.” I rolled your eyes, “Except he’s not spoken to me in two days.”

“Well, that’s hardly an eternity. Sometimes I don’t speak to him for weeks. Of course, that could just be because the man never talks.” He gave a weak attempt at a joke for your sake.

“It’s not the same for us, Fred. John and I, I mean.” You sat up, looking at the man full-on, “We’ve talked every day since we were in school together. Most times, we talk three or four times a day. Two days really is an eternity to go without him.”

Freddie looked sympathetic, but lost for words. You smiled sadly at him and stood, “I should go. I’ve got to okay a bunch of designs for t-shirts, apparently. I don’t know why they think that’s my job, but apparently, I’m some kind of fashion expert.”

Freddie laughed at that as you walked to his front door, “I can see that,” He gave a pointed look at your jumper, which you bought around Christmas three years ago from a local thrift store, and your jeans, which were bordering on threadbare. He paused, “Do you want me to call him for you? Give him what for?”

“No, Freddie, I want him to come to me when he’s ready. If he’s mad I don’t want to provoke his anger anymore than I have. You know how deadly he can be.” You gave a hollow smile. “But thank you, I appreciate it. I know I kinda neglect the rest of the band for Deaks, but you really are a good friend, Fred.”

Freddie blushed but wrapped you in a vicious hug, “Darling, I’m the best friend. No other compares to me.”

“Of course not.” You giggled as you pulled away. You walked down Freddie’s long drive, throwing a wave over your shoulder.

As you walked, you thought of the last time you’d spoken to John. He’d been viciously upset with you. When you accepted the position of his fake girlfriend, you didn’t think that he’d be so pissed. It’d been a heat of the moment decision, one you made because you were hurt, and truthfully, you kind of wanted to get back at him. Show him how good of a girlfriend you could be to him.

You shook your head. You weren’t his girlfriend. Never would be. You would’ve been a tool, a cog in a corporate scheme to sell more merchandise. Not that you’d complain if it meant you got to hold Deaky’s hand every so often. Finger intertwined, like a real couple. Even if it meant so much more to you than it ever would to him.

But the way things were going, you didn’t even know if you’d ever speak to Deaky again. He’d just been so damn angry at you.

»»————-¤————-««

“Could we have a moment alone, please, guys?” Deaky’s voice was underlined with rage.

You didn’t bother to point out it would be easier for you two to clear the room than the rest of the band. You sat patiently next to John as the rest of the boys, plus Paul and a sound technician, shuffled out of the room and into the hallway beyond. You distinctly heard Roger mumble, “Don’t know why we have to leave…”

The silence stretched until you couldn’t bear it anymore, one of Deaky’s best tactics in a fight, “Okay, out with it, John, what’s the problem?”

“What’s my problem? You want to know what my problem is?” He laughed bitterly, “Okay, y/n, my problem is that I’m not appealing enough to the masses, when all I signed on for was to play bass in a band as a side gig, not be a bloody sex symbol. My problem is that I have to get a fake girlfriend, because apparently I’m so damn unappealing that people have to be convinced that I’m a catch. My problem is that my best friend just volunteered herself to make out with me in public so that said public can see somebody, anybody, wants to fuck me. All of this in order to sell shirts with my face on it. Those are just a few of my problems.” He’d jumped up partway through his rant and starting pacing, running his fingers through his hair.

“Those are… valid problems.” You choked out. “But… Deaky, I’m trying to make the best of a bad situation here, none of those girls were right for you, and they would’ve been huge liabilities, to you and the band.”

He grimaced, “And I suppose you think you’re right for me?”

You blushed, “Well, I’m not saying we’re getting married or anything. But I think I’m the best to fill a role, yeah. You need someone who knows you, who can be seen with you, who the public will buy as your girlfriend, who won’t tell the world we’re not actually together. I can do all of those things.”

He was silent for a long time again. Finally, he replied, “You truly see no issue with this?”

You shrugged. You saw a hundred million issues with this, the biggest one being your incredibly huge, life consuming, distinctly non platonic love for him, but you weren’t about to mention that to him.

“And you’re fine with the…” He gestured wildly for a second, searching for the word, “duties you’d have to perform?”

You shifted, feeling a heat climb up your neck, “I have faith that we could work through it. As friends.” You leaned forward, resting your forearms on your knees and looking into John’s eyes, “I trust you and I trust that we care enough about each other to be able to do this.”

He’d almost seemed convinced until you’d said that last part. “No. I don’t want to torture myself with this. That’s my final answer. It’s a stupid idea, and we’re not doing it.”

“Torture?” That had cut deeply, “Being with me, even fictitiously, would be torture for you? Are you serious, John?” You struggled to hold back your tears, “Well, then. Let me do you a favor and make sure you don’t have to be around me any longer than necessary.” You picked up your bag and stood, “Good luck finding yourself a girlfriend, Deacon.”

With that, you walked out of the studio and past the group of men trying to look innocent. You didn’t care if they’d listened in. You didn’t care if they’d heard the whole damn thing. You wiped your tears away. Let them pity you. You certainly deserved it.

»»————-¤————-««

It’d been five days since you’d last spoken to John Deacon, and at this point, you were starting to give up hope that you ever would again. You couldn’t stop replaying your last conversation with him over and over again in your mind. He’d called the idea of you torturous. If that wasn’t an indicator of John’s true feelings for you, you didn’t know what was.

You sighed at your own thoughts. You were being silly. You’d known for years that Deaky never had feelings for you. You’d tried to move on from him so many times that it’s laughable. And now thinking back on it, you don’t know how you’d thought that holding him and kissing him with no real romantic intent from him was a good idea. John was right, it would be like torture. Except of a very different kind for you.

You were about to pick up the phone and call Deaky to tell him he was right when a knock sounded at the door.

“Coming!” You hopped up and ran to the door, hoping it was the delivery you’d ordered a while ago. You threw open to the door without checking the peephole and were surprised to see not a delivery man but, “Deaky.”

He looked down at his feet, “Hey, y/n. Can I, um, can I come in?”

You didn’t answer but instead held the door open for him.

He shuffled into your flat and made his way to his favorite spot to sit in your living room. The far end of the couch, right next to your favorite spot, and with the exact right distance from the coffee table for him to prop his feet up. Except now you weren’t sitting next to him, you were sitting in the armchair across from him.

He cleared his throat and wrung his hands, “I’m… here because I owe you an apology. A big one. I completely overreacted to the entire situation. So, I’m sorry. For everything.” His eyes darted around the room, refusing to look at you. “I’m actually also sorry I waited this long to apologize, everything just got really busy for a bit.”

You nodded, but didn’t have a clue what to say to him.

It didn’t matter though because Deaky continued speaking, “I think you’re right. About the best option being you. It will be tough, for a lot of different reasons…” He trailed off, “but I’d rather it be you than anyone else, y/n. I do trust you, and I trust that we can work through whatever difficulties this situation may present. I do… care about you, deeply, enough to make this work. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is sorry for being a little bitch, and I’m game, too. If you still are.” He finally made eye contact with you and smiled that beautiful, radiant smile of his. The one that never failed to melt your heart and make your stomach do a million flips. Right now was no exception, either.

You laughed, “Deaky, you’re ridiculous. You did overreact, yeah, and I forgive you for being a little bitch.”

He chuckled, “Thank you, y/n. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I will be eternally grateful.” He held a hand over his heart, “Now, will you do me the immense favor of being my fake girlfriend so my label can sell my merch?”

You tapped your chin, pretending to think about it, “Hm, I’m not sure you can handle me, Deacon.”

His eyes lit with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite name, “Oh, yeah? And why’s that, y/l/n?”

“I hear I’m, what’s the word, torturous?” You smirked, “Yeah, I think that’s how I was described.”

His face fell, “Y/n,” his voice was soft and apologetic. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t do things to you, bad things, “I’m so sorry that I said that, it was horrible of me, I didn’t mean it like that, I swear to you.”

You smiled at him, “I know, John.” But you didn’t. You had no idea why he’d said that to you and what he’d actually meant by it, but he seemed truly regretful. And that was enough for you. “Of course I’ll be your fake girlfriend, I’d be honored to.”

He smiled widely, “Okay, so… what now?”

“Now we wait for my takeout, and you stay and watch a few movies with me.” You suggested hopefully. “And then in the morning, we tell the label that we’ve picked a girl for you.”

He nodded, patting the seat beside him. You stood and crossed the room, seating yourself next to him. You leaned into his side as always, just as you had been all your life, and just as you always would be.


	3. Chapter 3

The NDA sat before you, the contract outlining your legally binding silence on the true nature of your relationship with Deaky. It said the usual legal mumbo-jumbo, and it wasn’t really that hard for you to agree to sign. You would never tell a soul outside of the band about this. You knew how disastrous that would be for them.

What was hard for you was the legal obligation of having to pretend to be in love with John while also pretending you weren’t. It would be the hardest thing you’d ever done.

You picked up the weighted pen, feeling the permanence of this moment. Once you signed this non-disclosure agreement, you and John Richard Deacon would be officially fake dating. The world would soon think that you’d fallen in love with Deaky. If only they knew, you’d fallen for Deaky a long, long time ago.

_ flashback, 1971 _

You sat next to a couple you didn’t know who were entranced with one another. Your heart panged for a love like that, one without borders, without walls between them. You looked around the bar, it seemed as if everyone there was coupled up. Maybe it was just because you were yearning for it, but it seemed as if everybody was in love.

It’d been a long time since you’d dated anyone and you were pretty sure you’d never been in love before. You cleared your throat, feeling the tightness of oncoming tears. This was not the time or place for that. You were here to support your best friend, Deaky.

You turned back to the bartender, “Do you know what time the band comes on?”

“Which one?” She asked, filling a glass with tap beer.

“Oh, um-” You didn’t remember the name of the band Deaky had joined, but you knew it was something royal…

“Queen,” John sidled up beside you, separating you from the couple who were now groping each other and saving you from having to answer the bartender, “and we’re on at 9, love. Thirty minute set.”

“Deaky!” You turned to face him fully and threw your arms around his neck, “Oh, my god! Why are you out here and not backstage? Oh, I don’t care! I’m so glad I got to see you before you play! Are you getting nervous?” You said all of this in one breath.

He chuckled at your questions, and hugged you back tightly, “I came out here to say hi to you, of course.” He pulled slightly away from you, but still kept you in his arms, “Of course I’m nervous, this is basically a more intense audition for the band.”

“Oh, you’ll do fine, John, you always do. You’re a stellar bassist, you know that.” You pulled out of his grasp and offered him some of your beer.

He took a swig of your beer before saying, “They kicked out their last three bassists, said they weren’t good fits.” He tapped out a consist rhythm on the side of the beer bottle with his pinky.

You stilled his pinky, you knew it was his nerves, but if he didn’t get ahold of himself now, he never would before the show, “Of course they did! Because you’re the perfect fit. They’ve just been waiting for you all along. They just don’t know that yet.”

“Well, I sure hope so.”

“I know you want this, John, but you know there are other bands out there. If this one doesn’t accept you, the next one will. I know it.”

He rolled his eyes at your unrelenting positivity, but didn’t reply.

You took your beer back from him and drank. “Wanna dance before you go on?” You smirked at him, knowing he couldn’t refuse to dance.

He smiled at you, and for one second, it took your breath away. Over the past few months, you’d developed quite the crush on one Mr. John Deacon, and when he looked at you like this, like you were the only thing that mattered to him, it sure as hell didn’t help you on the whole getting rid of your crush situation. You and Deaky were friends, best friends, have been since you both had a literature class together your first year of university. But ever since Deaky had stayed over at your flat a few months ago, and you’d woken up to him there beside you, you’d realized you wanted that to happen every day. And that maybe you had just a little bit of a crush on your friend.

One you were trying to get rid of. So it really didn’t help when Deaky took your hand and said, “I’d love to dance with you, darling.”

And so you both danced. There was a jazz band up on stage, playing sweet melodies that had you and John floating around the floor together.

You loved to watch John dance, he had the most ridiculously endearing moves, he hopped and skipped around. He bopped his head not quite to the beat. His face was alight with the thrill of pure enjoyment of the music playing. It was intoxicating. You were beginning to wonder if this wasn’t such a great idea when he grabbed your hand and spun you around.

“You’re too stiff to dance, y/n. Loosen up.”

You laughed and obeyed him, relaxing your muscles into the music, letting the rhythm of the jazz and John’s own dancing take you.

You both danced until you were out of breath and it was then when you finally caught your breath, that you realized you and John had become much closer to each other than you started out as. You were chest to chest with him, his face hovering a few inches above yours. You were close enough to count his eyelashes.

You desperately wanted to kiss him. Or better yet, for him to kiss you. You placed your hands around his neck, staring deep into his eyes, willing yourself to let go of him. Willing yourself to draw closer.

He licked his lips as his eyes dashed all across your face, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips, oh how his eyes lingered on your lips, your nose, and then back to your eyes. He was scanning you for some answer, hidden within your features. You didn’t know what the question was, but you hoped he’d received the answer he wanted.

Just when he seemed about ready to say something, or do something, you both heard from the distance, “Oi! Deacon!” You both snapped your heads towards the call of a blonde man, waving his arms for John’s attention. “We’re on in ten, mate, get your arse back here!” He shouted, and without waiting for a reply, ducked backstage once more.

You pulled away from John with a shaky laugh, “Well, it seems you’re needed elsewhere.”

He reached for your hand and squeezed it, “You’ll watch me?”

You nodded your head at him, “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

He smiled at you before dashing through the crowd to get backstage, looking over his shoulder at you before a hand reached up and yanked his head behind the curtain. You giggled and scanned the area around the stage, searching for the best vantage point.

You’d just reached the optimal spot as the four boys known as Queen came onto the stage. There was a light cheer in the crowd, you could tell most people didn’t know who they were and didn’t really care.

There were a few girls near you, ones you could tell were fans of Queen. They jumped up and down, trying to get the attention of the boys. The blonde man who’d called for John, the drummer you learned, winked at the girls and the practically melted to the floor right then and there.

You chuckled as a dark-haired man took to the microphone and said, “Hello, lovelies, how are we all doing tonight?”

He received minimal responses from the larger crowd, but the group of girls were over the moon at the acknowledgment, “We love you, Freddie!” One girl shouted to the man.

“I love you, too, dears!” He smiled brightly at them, and one girl clutched her chest and looked about ready to pass out. “Well, some of you might notice an unfamiliar face up here with us tonight, everybody please give a warm welcome to John Deacon, our new bassist!”

You let out a yell at that, calling the attention of the girls, who echoed you, “Yes, John!” They shouted, you smiled at them before looking back to John. He had a rosy tint to his cheeks but smiled at you nonetheless. You nodded at him encouragingly and motioned him to wave at the girls. He furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of your motion until he finally got it and threw the girls a quick wave. They erupted with cheers and giggles.

He shook his head lightly, bemused at them. Some of the girls looked over to you, noticing your interactions with him. A pretty redheaded girl stepped up to you, “Do you know Queen?” She asked excitedly. “Like, personally, I mean?”

“Ah, I know the bassist, John. He’s my friend.”

She giggled at that, “Do you think you could get me backstage? I really want Roger’s number!” She confided.

You didn’t know whether Roger was the guitarist or the drummer, but you would try for this girl, “Um, I don’t know the band well enough, but I’ll certainly try for you.”

“Ohmigod, thank you so much!!” She clutched your arm right as the band started to play. You nodded at her and turned back to Deaky. She ran off to share the good news with her friends, who squealed as Freddie started to sing.

You couldn’t take your eyes of John. He looked so good, so in his element on stage. He focused on his hands during most of the show but would look up at you every so often and smile. Every time he did, it was like an electric volt through your body. It was in those smiles that you knew you were fucked. You didn’t just have a crush on John. You were in love with him.

It hit you hard, making you stagger back a few steps from the stage. The movement got the attention of John who looked at you worriedly. You smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up. You didn’t want anything, especially not your personal crisis, to mess up his chances of getting officially in the band.

He looked as if he didn’t believe you, but continued playing his heart out anyway.

Before you knew it, the thirty minute set was over, and Queen was leaving the stage. The lead singer blew a kiss to the crowd, who had all been drawn in by the outstanding performance of the band. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and you knew in your gut that Deaky had gotten the spot. He’d done so well. Your heart swelled with pride for him.

Soon enough, you were back at Deaky’s side, being dragged backstage with the rest of the band, “I made it, y/n! They want me in the band- permanently!”

You smiled at his enthusiasm, “I told you they, would, you silly boy!” You reached up to ruffle his hair as he slung his arm around you.

“It was you. You’re my good luck charm. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You blushed and shook your head, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Who’s this?” The man you recognized as Freddie asked Deaky, “Got yourself a girlfriend, D?”

John blushed and you pulled away from him, “Uh, no. No, I’m his friend, y/n.”

“So you’re single?” The blonde drummer’s head popped up from behind an amp he was unplugging.

“Keep it in your pants, Rog.” Freddie said, “We don’t date each other’s friends.”

“Roger?” You asked, “There’s a redhead in the crowd who wants your number, told her I’d see if I could get it for her.”

Deaky chuckled and Roger brightened, “Oh, yeah? She cute, this redhead?”

“Extremely.” You affirmed.

He left his position from behind the amp and disappear from backstage with a warning not to wait up for him. You hoped he found the right redhead, you’d hate to let the poor girl down.

The guitarist rolled his eyes, “He’d take to bed anything with two legs and a heartbeat.” He held his hand out to you, “Brian May, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You smiled at him and shook his hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Brian May. I’m y/n y/l/n.”

He nodded and went over to the amp Roger had so gleefully abandoned, resuming Rog’s task.

Deaky turned to you, “I have to stay and help pack up, you can wait at the bar for me, alright?”

You nodded and reached up to kiss him on the cheek, “I’m so proud of you, Deaky.” You said earnestly. “You did so well.”

He ducked his head at the compliment. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

_ end flashback, present day _

You blinked at the NDA, returning to yourself. You looked over at John. He glanced at you and gave you a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, love, we do this together.”

The tension in your shoulders relaxed and you gave him a faint smile, “Together.”

There was no going back, you signed the NDA.


	4. Chapter 4

You and Deaky had both decided for yourselves (along with the help of Freddie, Brian, and Roger, because they couldn’t for the life of them keep their noses out of business that did not concern them) that the best time to make your first public appearance as a couple was your birthday. Freddie planned on throwing a party, of course, as Freddie did. But you insisted that beforehand you wanted a small, private dinner party with your closest friends.

“Debbie, focus, which dress looks better?” You held up the two you were considering to your body, alternating them so she could see them both against you.

“Hm,” she considered, looking up from the photo album she was flipping through, “Try on the yellow one for me? Oh my god, this picture of you on your first day of school is adorable!” She was laying on her belly, swinging her legs behind her.

“Thanks,” You absentmindedly nodded and escaped behind your room divider so you could change without leaving the room. “What are you wearing tonight, D?”

“The red one with the frills along the collar. Shows off my chest nicely, I think. Rog’s gonna be there, yeah?”

You chuckled, “Can’t have a party without him.” You stepped out from behind the divider, “What do you think?”

She considered it but you could see it was a no already, and you agreed with her. It didn’t feel right for tonight. You needed something that stood out. This was your first date with Deaky, real or not. You wanted to feel beautiful.

You hopped back behind the divider as Debbie shook her head, taking off the yellow dress.

Debbie hopped up from her position on her bed and rushed to your closet, pulling something out, “This is the dress you’re wearing tonight.”

You took it from her and examined it. It was an emerald green dress that you’d bought a few months ago but never worked up the courage to wear. It was fairly simple in the front, the neckline coming to just under your collar bone, but the back was completely open, save for bits of fabric crisscrossing themselves into an elaborate design. The skirt’s material was very flowy and soft as you ran your fingers over it, considering, “I don’t know, Deb, it’s a little much.”

“That’s why it’s perfect. This is your first date with the man you’ve loved for years. It’s monumental. Just like this dress.”

“I’ll try it on.”

Once it was on and you were standing in front of the floor-length mirror propped against your wall, you knew Debbie was right. This was the dress. No other dress would turn heads like this, and that was your goal. Even outside of trying to get John’s attention on you, the goal tonight was to get people, the public, to notice you and John.

Debbie stood behind you, admiring the back, “If John doesn’t drop onto his knees when he sees you, then there’s truly no hope for the man.”

You smiled tightly at her through your reflection, a nervous feeling clawing its way into your stomach. You were going to have to spend a night with John as his girlfriend, convincing the public you were in love. That wasn’t hard to do. But the thought you might be too convincing scared you. If John started to suspect your true feelings for him, everything could be ruined. You were going to have to play tonight very carefully.

»»——————¤——————««

There was a car that was supposed to pick up you and Debbie at your flat and drive you to the restaurant, where you would meet the boys and their various dates. Freddie had called you an hour before, informing you of this and also asking you a favor.

“I know it’s last minute, love, but could I bring two dates?”

“Why do you need two dates, Freddie?” You asked incredulously, “One isn’t enough?”

“Well, I wanted to invite Mary, too, you know she’d be crushed if she missed your birthday.” You’d already assumed Mary was his date.

“Who’s the other date?” You narrowed your eyes, knowing he couldn’t see you. It made you feel better, though.

“Paul, of course.”

You sighed and pinched the skin between your brows, “Freddie, does he have to be at my birthday dinner? I don’t even know him all that well.”  _ And I don’t like him. _ You wanted to say, but knew that’d hurt Freddie, possibly even anger him.

“I suppose not, dear, if that’s what you really want.” He paused, “He can come to the party, though, yes?”

You knew this was a compromise you’d have to make, “Yes, Freddie, he can come to the party.” It’d be easy to avoid him there, with so many moving bodies and drunken people.

You heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Alright, the car will be there are seven, see you tonight!”

Since then, you’d busied yourself with getting ready and making yourself as beautiful as possible, hoping John would notice the extra effort.

You glanced outside and saw the shiny black car pulling up to your building and shouted to Debbie, “Time to go, gorgeous, car’s here!”

You heard a thunk and a muttered “shit” before hearing her open the door of the bathroom, “Already? I’ve only partially done my face.”

“Well do the other part and meet me downstairs, be quick.” You grabbed your clutch, double checking that it held your keys, money, and extra lipstick before dashing out the door and meeting the driver, who stood waiting.

“Ma’am,” he nodded as he opened the door, allowing you inside.

“My friend will be just a second.” You assured him, slipping into the backseat.

The inside of the car was just as nice as the exterior, all very new and shiny. The leather seats squeaked a little as your knee bounced up and down. You wanted to get to the restaurant, but at the same time, you wanted to run upstairs, throw on your sweatpants and never leave your bedroom. You knew that escaping the situation wasn’t possible. The only way through it was to suck it up and date your best friend. Platonically, of course.

The car ride was short, once Debbie had made her way downstairs. You probably wouldn’t have even needed to take a car, but John had insisted, saying something about how you deserved the best for your birthday and nothing less. You’d just shrugged and accepted it as his gift to you. He was always doing things like that, and over time, you’d learned that that’s just the kind of guy he was. So you stopped pushing back against his gifts and favors, and you started to thank him profusely instead.

You could see John waiting on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant and the sight of him took your breath away. He looked dashing in black pants and a white button-down shirt, a leather jacket and black tie completing the look. He was rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands tucked into his pants pockets. He spotted the car and stopped his fidgeting, his gaze watching as the car pulled up beside him.

He didn’t even wait for the driver to fully park before opening the car door for you and Debbie. You slid out behind her, smiling brightly at John. “Thanks, Deaky.” You nodded at him.

He looked at you, his eyes roving over every part of your body before coming back up to meet yours. He let out a harsh breath. He was still holding the car door open. “Y/n, you look… exquisite. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” You blushed and turned to look away from him, scanning the outside of the restaurant. “Boys inside?”

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “Uh, yeah, they are. Already seated.” He looked down, seemed to realize he was still holding the car door open and shut it. He offered you his arm, which you gladly took. “Ready to do this?”

You blinked, remembering the role you were playing tonight, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You sidled up closer to him, a distance that couldn’t be considered platonic anymore. You’d been this close to him before, but it seemed different, now that you were both aware of the intent behind it. The distance seemed both far too much and far too little. He just squeezed your arm, leading you into the restaurant. Debbie was left to follow you guys.

Inside it was dimly lit, but not so much that you couldn’t see other patrons face as they glanced at the movement of your party entering, then back down at their menus and meals. Some, however, seemed to recognize Deaky and looked at you appraisingly, glancing between the almost nonexistent distance between your bodies and your hand on his arm, starting to put puzzle pieces together.

You distinctly paid them no head as John led you through the restaurant towards your table. Normally, you and the band would have a more secluded table, away from prying eyes, but as tonight had a double motive behind it, prying eyes were exactly what you needed.

John pulled out your chair for you, Debbie sitting on your left and Deaky took your right. Everyone wished you a happy birthday, and you smiled, thanking them all. You loved being surrounded by all the people you cared about most in this world on an occasion like this.

A waiter promptly appeared and Freddie asked that he bring out the most expensive bottle of wine in house, his present to you. You shook your head, but accepted it nonetheless, knowing Freddie well enough to know that if you’d refused he’d do it anyway, and then spend even more money on you, just to spite you.

As you were looking over the menu, John leaned into you, his hand coming to rest on your knee. You jumped before relaxing into it, liking the feeling, savoring the warmth of his fingers on your leg. Your stomach did flips and cartwheels. It was a solid minute before you realized this was all apart of the act. Everything tonight was just an act.

“What are you thinking of getting, love?” He asked you quietly, his breath fanning over your bare shoulder, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin.

“The salmon, I think. But I also kind of want pasta. I’m not actually sure yet.” You giggled nervously and everyone around the table looked at you. Brian raised an eyebrow, but quickly turned back to his conversation with Roger and his date. Freddie, however, gave you a knowing look. You rolled your eyes at him. His smirk just grew.

John’s hand squeezed your leg, “Steady. Just relax. I’m sorry if it’s making you uncomfortable.” He whispered lowly so no one but you could hear, “Just say the word and I can stop.”

You shook your head, “It’s fine, just not used to it, is all.”

He nodded, “I know. It’s gonna be weird at first.” He raised his voice slightly, pulling you both out of your private moment, “You can get the salmon and I can get the pasta, and we can share.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness, of both your comfort and your food preference. “Sounds like a plan.”

Dinner passed almost smoothly, except for the fact that you were jumping at every touch of John’s hand, or graze of his thigh against yours. Eventually, as you imbibed a few glasses of wine, the touches became more natural to you, and you would lean into them, even initiating a few yourself.

You just couldn’t help yourself, knowing that you were now allowed to touch him so casually was a drug. And you were hooked, unable to get enough.

By the end of dinner, John had his arm around you and you were fiddling with his hands, playing with his long fingers, weaving them between your own and inspecting how nicely they fit together. It felt right, but you couldn’t let that thought ever distract you from knowing this was fake. A ruse. That was when this game would become dangerous for you.

You had to admit, John put on a pretty good show of being in love with you. He so readily jumped into the casual touching that came along with a relationship with you. It seemed as if he didn’t even think twice about anything, no discomfort was present at all in his demeanor. If he wasn’t such a good bassist, he might’ve had a future career in acting.

Throughout dinner, you noticed looks from not only patrons of the restaurant, distracted by the rowdy members of Queen, but looks from the band themselves, minus John. Every time Freddie looked at you, it was as if he could read your thoughts, read how desperately and hopelessly in love with John you were. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

Roger didn’t seem to have any problem with the extra touching between you and John, but he did smirk, cracking jokes about how if you two weren’t careful you might actually end up in bed together.

It was Brian who confused you the most. Every time he looked over at you and John, he didn’t glance at you. He looked at Deaky, giving him looks that if you didn’t know any better you’d mistake for warnings. But you didn’t know what Bri would possibly need to warn him about.

You tried to let it slip your mind as dinner continued but it ate away at the back of your brain, every so often making itself present. Why was Brian giving Deaky these looks, and more importantly, what did those looks mean?

»»——————¤——————««

You admittedly didn’t like parties. At least, not the kind of out of control ragers that Freddie threw. You knew he used any excuse he could to throw one, and you didn’t mind him using your birthday as an excuse. You just wished you didn’t have to necessarily attend the party. But you were the guest of honor, so you were within Freddie’s line of sight the entire night, his only goal being that you enjoyed yourself.

There were a bunch of people from magazines that Queen was friendly with, so your act with John had to be kept up. It was that reason that you found yourself sitting on a couch, your legs were thrown over his, arms around his neck, head laying on his shoulder. You two had just finished dancing after what seemed like hours. His hand was absentmindedly stroking your back. Or you thought it was absentmindedly. Maybe it was all just a part of the charade. Another calculated move to present you and John as a couple in love. Your stomach dropped at the thought.

You didn’t care if this was all an act for him, a show for the press people that might catch a glimpse of you and him in a compromising situation. You quite enjoyed this position, if you were being honest, and you were taking advantage of it while you could. You breathed in Deaky’s scent, a mix of his leather jacket, his cologne that smells like fresh rain, and his own distinct scent, more prominent after spending so long dancing in a hot mash of bodies. It was intoxicating enough that you didn’t even need to drink anything, though you had had a beer earlier at the party, in addition to the wine at the restaurant. It was safe to say that part of the reason you felt so comfortable in such a publicly intimate embrace with John might’ve been due to your sobriety, or lack thereof.

He was having a conversation with Brian about something and every time he spoke, you could feel his chest rumbling slightly. It made your stomach clench each time. “I’ve got this idea, an amp I could build, do you think you could use something like that, Bri?”

Brian nodded, “Yeah, I need an amp that can really take a beating, you know? Something that holds steady after a solo.”

Deaky nodded, his hand rubbing circles in between your shoulder blades, working out the tension you didn’t know you were holding. You relaxed deeper into his arms and sighed, “Deaky’s a genius, Bri, he could build you anything you could possibly ask for.”

“I know, and believe me, I’m gonna take advantage of it.”

“Oh, I love to hear things are being taken advantage of, what is it this time, Brian?” Freddie sauntered up to you guys on the couch.

“Our boy Deaks, here, of course.”

“I thought that was y/n’s job?”

You blushed and buried your face into Deaky’s chest, which only made your embarrassment worse. Having to hide your face into your fake boyfriend’s chest because somebody was teasing you about said fake boyfriend was an absolute nightmare, as you were finding out.

Deaky took it in stride, though and laughed, coaxing you out of your hiding spot by brushing your hair back from your face. You peeked up at him and smiled. His eyes were gentle as he gazed at you.  _ It’s okay, _ his eyes seemed to whisper to you.

“Well, I’m not here to police who takes advantage of John or not, I’m here to announce it’s cake time! C’mon, birthday girl!” Freddie held his hand out to you and you took it, standing from Deaky’s lap.

“Freddie, I said you didn’t have to get me a cake.”

“Nonsense, who doesn’t get a cake on their birthday?” He lead you to his dining room, where an enormous, towering cake that seemed to have a million lighted candles on it took center stage. You could hear someone turn the music down and a hush fell over the crowd.

Freddie placed you in front of the cake before he went over to his grand piano and started to play, “Happy birthday to you,” he sang, “Happy birthday to you.”

Roger smiled at you from across the table, his arm around Debbie, who looked over the moon at his attention. Brian started to hum along with Freddie at your side. Deaky came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. You leaned back into him.

“Happy birthday, dear y/n. Happy birthday to you!” Freddie finished with a flourish and you clapped loudly as everyone cheered for you to blow out the candles.

You obliged and made a wish, one so dear to your heart that you could hardly think it without fear that it may never come true.

Everybody clapped when all the candles were blown out and a server Freddie had hired came out to start slicing pieces of cake for everyone.

“Come with me.” John turned to whisper in your ear, sending goosebumps along your skin.

He grabbed your hand and as he was leading you through the crowd he looked back at you, “Hey, what’d you wish for?”

“If I tell you it won’t come true, now will it?” You quipped, trying to match pace with him as you squeezed through a group of people who you’d definitely seen doing acid thirty minutes ago.

“Do you want it to?” He started you both up a set of stairs and stopped in front of a closed door.

“Of course, that’s why I wished for it, silly.”

He nodded and pushed open the door, “Wish you’d tell me, maybe I could make it happen for you.”

He could, but he would never know that because it just wasn’t in the cards. You’d accepted that long ago.

You stepped into the room, turning to face John, “It’s not your job to make my wishes come true, John.”

“I can sure as hell try, can’t I?” He retorted.

“What’s going on, Deaks?” You asked, changing the subject as you looked around the room. It was one of Freddie’s guest rooms, it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a few months.

“I got you a present, and I wanted to give it to you in private.” He said, pulling a neatly wrapped box out of a jacket pocket. It was a small box, but even still you don’t know how you hadn’t felt it through his jacket. He handed it to you, “Here.”

You took it with slightly shaky hands, “You really didn’t have to get me anything, John.”

“Of course, I did. You’re my best friend.” The words sent a pang through your heart. Being so close to him all evening, it had almost started to feel real. Until you remembered and it felt like he’d thrown a bucket of ice water on you with those words.

“Thanks, Deaky.”

He laughed, shrugging off your gratitude. “Open it. Don’t thank me until you know if you like it.”

You opened it gently, no clue what he could’ve gotten you. It took your breath away when you saw it.

“It’s a bass clef.” He explained, picking the necklace up out of the box, “You know, cause I play the bass.” He laughed gently. “Thought it was kind of cheeky.”

You were speechless. You couldn’t believe he’d gotten you such a beautiful necklace, but even more, you couldn’t believe that it was so… personal. It almost felt like his claim on you. Not that he’d ever have to, you were his without question.

_ Not that he’d ever want to,  _ you thought sadly as he unclasped the necklace, moving behind you. This might just be a necklace for show, so that the press would see his necklace for you, and know you were his girlfriend. Yes, that made much more sense.

“Could you pick up your hair?”

Wordlessly, you did as he instructed, holding your hair out of the way as he strung the necklace around your throat. You held your breath as you felt his fingers at the base of your neck, securing the necklace.

“Fun fact, the bass clef, it’s actually made out of an old string I snapped on my bass a while back. It took a little bit of heat and a lot of willpower, but I made it work.”

He’d made this for you? You felt your throat start to tighten, and the back of your eyes stung with tears. “Deaky,” you choked out.

He heard the crack in your voice and said worriedly, “Hey, if you don’t like it, I can get you something else. I just thought that this would be nice. I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry, I can-”

You cut him off by turning around and hugging him tightly. He’d made this necklace for you, it had taken time, thought, and effort. This wasn’t something he came up with two weeks ago, when the idea of dating him had first been presented. This had been something he had to have planned for weeks, maybe even months. You felt the tears slide down your cheeks.

“I love it, John, I love-” you stopped yourself from admitting your deepest secret, “I love it, so much. I’ll never take it off.” And you wouldn’t. For as long as you lived, this necklace would be a part of you. Something that was now molded into your soul, just as Deaky himself was. This was real, tangible proof of his love for you, even as painful as it was to know that he simply saw you as a friend.

No, you decided, you would never take this necklace off. Not for the world.


End file.
